


Under His Clothes

by mrstaemin (TheTroninator)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Self-Harm, Triggers, selfharm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTroninator/pseuds/mrstaemin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael notices something about Gavin's legs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under His Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request by notouchyme on tumblr.

Giggles and roaming hands and wrestling. Smiles and snorts and curse words flying. It might be the middle of a work day, but Michael has been working hard enough and Gavin was practically red-faced from all of his labors. So why not take a quick break? Why not have a tussle? 

It started with Michael poking Gavin’s side. “Hey, Gavvy. Hey.” Usually Gavin would be the one to pester Michael, but the silly auburn-haired lad couldn’t take the boredom anymore, so he began distracting his friend.

“Quit it, you pleb,” Gavin hissed, batting away Michael’s hand.

“Make me!” Michael dared. 

Then it was all out war. 

The others in the office have decided to ignore them while they goof off. 

Gavin tosses his head back while Michael squeezes his side. Gavin flips around and straddles his freckle faced opponent and goes for the ribs, tickling him furiously. 

Michael’s face goes crimson with laughter. He blindly tries to push Gavin away, his hands landing just below the hem of Gavin’s shorts. 

His hands trail upwards in an effort to scare Gavin off, but Gavin is so intent on his tickling, he doesn’t notice. 

Michael feels something different when his hands climb further up Gavin’s skinny legs. Gavin’s skin doesn’t feel as smooth under his fingers. Raised skin, Michael notices. His fingers dance around under Gavin’s shorts, feeling the rough patches.

Suddenly Gavin stops tickling him and jumps up, a horror-stricken expression plastered on his face--eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows stitched closer together.

“What was that?” Michael asks, propping himself up on his elbows, still half-lying on the floor.

“N-nothing,” Gavin stutters. “It’s nothing. Just my legs.”

Gavin clumsily sits back at his desk, banging his knees in the process.

“No, your skin felt weird,” Michael says, standing up. “It was only on your upper thigh there.” Michael crosses to where Gavin is nervously clicking and points to his leg. 

Gavin looks up to Michael, and then glances around the room. Through his teeth he begs, “Forget it, okay?” 

Michael senses something wrong, but knows it’s not the time to discuss it. “For now,” he replies in a whisper, sitting back down to his work.

Gavin releases a relieved sigh.

At the end of the day, when everyone’s headed home, Michael noticed Gavin rushing toward the door, calling to Geoff over his shoulder to hurry up. Michael can tell he wants out of there. He can see that he wants to escape.

As Gavin’s pushing the door open, Michael grabs his wrist. “Gavin,” he says sternly.

Gavin huffs. “I don’t want to--I’m going home now, Michael,” he stammers.

“Geoff, I’ll drive Gavin home,” Michael tells the older man as he walks past them toward his car.

Geoff simply shrugs. “Whatever.”

Michael drags Gavin to the bathroom despite his sputtering and his protests.

When they get there, Michael drops Gavin’s arm and blurts, “What’s wrong with you?”

“N-nothing,” Gavin insists.

Michael rolls his eyes. “You acted really strange when I touched your thighs.”

“Well, yeah! You were bloody feelin’ me up, weren’t you?” Gavin spits back, thrusting his arms in the air with exasperation. “Can we just forget it now?”

Michael shakes his head. “Something’s up with you.” 

He crosses over to Gavin and grabs the hem of his shorts. Gavin tries to bat his hands away, squirming, but Michael shoves him to the wall and hikes the pant leg up.

Michael looks now. His eyes scan over myriad scars. Some look fresher than others. A few have bandages on them still. Gavin turns his head away, closing his eyes shut. 

“What the hell, Gav?” Michael wonders, his voice soft and melancholic. 

Gavin shakes his head. “Just, forget it.”

“I can’t!” Michael shouts back, his voice cracking. “I don’t understand. I don’t get it. You never seem… You’re just usually so happy! Why this?” Michael pulls his hands up to his face in dismay. 

Gavin turns away from Michael and makes for the door. 

“No!” Michael commands, catching him again. He pulls Gavin’s skinny body in for a hug. “What can I do?”

“It’s not your fault, Michael,” Gavin explains, voice surprisingly even. “I know I don’t express myself around you guys much, but it has to go somewhere. My frustrations. I get minged off. I get homesick. You know I do.”

“Well, don’t take it out on yourself,” Michael tells him. “If you feel mad or frustrated, come yell at me!”

Gavin smiles wryly. “I would never want to do that.” 

“Then just come play video games with me or… cuddle for Christ’s sake,” he offers, taking a step back. “But you gotta stop that shit.”

Gavin shrugs.

“Gavin.” 

“Okay, I’ll stop,” he concedes, knowing it’s easier said than done. If he could just decide to quit and have that be the end of it, he would’ve done that ages ago, but maybe now, since Michael’s offered alternatives, it’ll be easier. Knowing someone would be there to check up on it might serve as a motivation to put an end to it.

Michael notices a tear forming in his own eye, so he wipes it away. “Dammit, Gav,” he mutters. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Gavin answers, his stupid crooked grin reappearing.


End file.
